All The King's Men
by AnteNomad
Summary: An account of the fall of Cardolan, second of the realms of Arnor in the north, by the forces of Angmar in the Third Age. Some heroes' deeds are not put to song.
1. Prologue

**All The King's Men  
  
**PROLOGUE  
  
_Concerning the Partition of Arnor and the Rise of the Witch-King  
_

  
At the height of its prestige, the great kingdom of Arnor stood over all the lands of Eriador, between the Misty Mountains on the east and the Blue Mountains on the border of Lindon in the west. Elendil himself ruled from this land ere his fall in the siege of Barad-Dúr, with his throne in the city of Annúminas upon Lake Nenuial. Following the death of Elindil, and Isildur who perished in the Gladden Fields ere he could assume the throne, rule of the kingdom passed to Valandil, Isildur's youngest and only living son.  
  
With the passage of Isildur the fate of Arnor was thus divided from that of the southern kingdom, Gondor. Where Isildur is considered the right lord of both lands, kingship of Gondor passed on his death to Meneldil, the son of Anarion Isildur's brother. And while Gondor rose during the Third Age in prestige and renown, Arnor would fall early into disarray.  
  
On the death of Eärendur the tenth King of Arnor in the year 861 of the Third Age, there was quarrel between his three sons over rulership of the land; and though Amlaith Eärendur's eldest son held the greatest claim, the dispute led to the partition of Arnor into three separate kingdoms. Amlaith took rule of the western realm of Arthedain from Fornost, then Arnor's greatest city; also were Cardolan in the south and Rhudaur in the west. The line of Isildur did not long survive in these two kingdoms, and though Cardolan remained friendly with Arthedain Rhudaur fell into evil. A clan of renegades and wild men overthrew the kingship of that land, and many wars were fought with Cardolan over the Weather Hills and possession of the _palantir_, the seeing-stone of the Elves that was held at the watch-tower Amon Sûl, which both lands bordered.  
  
It was in this time that a darker threat arose far to the north. An evil silent since the defeat of Sauron at the end of the Second Age was gathering power, and his lands were called Angmar, the Iron-home. With this land Rhudaur would enter into secret alliance, and its shadow fell long over the two remaining free kingdoms of the north. The peoples of Cardolan and Arthedain feared assault, and after five centuries of decline knew they had not the strength to repel this foe. An effort was made by Argoleb I, king of Arthedain, to reunite the three kingdoms again under one banner, but this was fiercely rebuffed by Rhudaur, and nothing came of it. All throughout the northern lands a sense of doom came; soon the dreaded Witch-King, ruler of Angmar, would make his war; and when he did, few thought he could be repelled.  
  
So it was until the year 1409, when such events would finally come to motion. While it would be some centuries yet before the final doom of both lands would be decided, herein is told the account of the last defenders of Cardolan and the first of the great battles for the fate of the realm that was once the greatest realm of Men in Middle-Earth, second only to Númenor itself.  
  


_Of the Heirs of Isildur  
_

  
While Gondor was ruled by a line of kings traced back to Anarion, the younger son of Elendil, the kings of the North were direct descendents of Isildur by his only living son and thus were held the greater. This line remained unbroken in Arthedain alone after the partition of 861; king of that land in the year 1409 was Arveleg I, who was crowned in 1356 at the death of his father, Argeleb I son of Malvegil. Arveleg had one son at this time, Araphor, who was not yet fully grown.  
  


_Of Cardolan  
_

  
This kingdom, whose name was Land of the Red Hills in the Sindarin toungue, was made he domain of of Faralaith Eärendur's second son. Mithranos, the Grey Citadel, was made the capital of Cardolan; it had before stood as a watch on the Barrow-Downs and the gateway to the far southern lands of Minhiriath, as it on the River Baranduin near the Sarn Ford. The colors of the Guard of Cardolan were thus silver and crimson-brown.  



	2. The Conference of the Istari

CHAPTER I  
  
_The Council of the Istari  
  
_It was morning a cold day in the first month of 1409 when Gandalf the Grey passed the Great Gate of Minas Anor, with ill tidings from the north.  
  
The figure who passed on a brown horse through the tall gate of the great western fortress of Gondor on that day resembled well the meaning of the many names he was known by; the Elves called him _Mithrandir_, the Grey Wanderer, and Men the same in lesser tounges, for the grey cloak and large steepled hat he bore and his appearance as an old man with a long grey beard; his most remarkable quality was that he was quite tall, and bore himself with a stature uncommon among Men of his apparent age. This belied his true nature; as he was not only far older than any but the most learned Men could imagine, but indeed he was no man at all; nor was he Elf or any other creature well-known to Middle-Earth. The whole number of his kind in these lands could be numbered with all the fingers on one hand, as he was known as a Wizard, one of the _Istari_ from the Western Lands.  
  
Up he rode through the seven tiers of the city, astride his brown horse the whole of the way, until he came to its highest point, built from one of the very peaks of the White Mountains against which it rested. This was the Court of the Fountain where stood the Citadel of Anarion; and from this high point could be seen the whole of the Pelennor Fields which stood between Minas Anor and Gondor's capital at Osgiliath, and beyond this the fields of Ithilien and finally the mountains of Ethel Dúath at the border of the ancient land of Mordor, the realm of Sauron ere his fall.  
  
Here Gandalf dismounted from his horse, and with a command the horse turned about and made his way to the stables. Observing all this was one other of his kind, the leader of the _Istari_ and the man Gandalf had rode from the north to meet. The Elves called him _Cirunir_, the Man of Skill, devoted much of his attention and travel in the eastern lands of Middle-Earth, but he would from time to time return to Gondor and avail himself of the great library in Minas Anor to aid his research. While as much a mystery to the Men of the West as Gandalf was, he was known as an enemy to evil, and they called him Saruman the White.  
  
So,' he declared by way of greeting. A shadow grows once more of an elder threat, and the blissful days of this age may be numbered. This much I have seen for myself. Yet some ill news brings Gandalf the Grey out of the North. Quite a difficult task to perform this is, as I have had cause to learn.'  
  
Gandalf laughed. Great are the lands of Middle-Earth,' he said, and much is the work to be done. I go where I feel I am most needed and useful, and keep my appointments as best I am able. And I find that I am often best able when I make very few.'  
  
And this you have certainly done,' answered Saruman. Yet on this occasion, you would seek me out with haste. What is it in the North that has you so alarmed?'  
  
A fear,' said Gandalf. The lands of the North are falling slowly into a darkness so deep that has not been known since the days of Morgoth himself. Orcs multiply, and tainted Men, who hold greater sway over even the Free Kingdoms; and I fear they shall not remain free for very long. The Witch-King of Angmar is gathering his strength.'  
  
So he has been for a century,' replied Saruman.  
  
It is changed now.' Gandalf spoke softly, but with a finality that belied the certainty of his thought. He feels the time is ripe for conquest, and he is not wrong. The Three Kingdoms are ill-prepared; Cardolan is weak, Rhudaur possessed by darkness, and Arthedain cannot defend them both. The attack will come soon.'  
  
This is grave news,' said Saruman. He looked thoughtfully out to the horizon, first to the North, and then to the East where clouds obscured the rising sun. But the threat of the Witch-King is not our greatest peril. A greater shadow is taking form, and while I know not its origin, I deem it stronger and of greater danger to these lands than any that shall come from the North.'  
  
The threat of Angmar is imminent,' insisted Gandalf. I too have felt the shadow of the East, but its time is not yet come. I deem we should concern ourselves with the peril that has.'  
  
For a time, Saruman did not answer; still he was looking out across the fields, at something beyond the horizon. I am thought wise by many,' he said at length. And learned I am, in the lore of this world and others. Yet this shadow, I do not understand, though as I think upon it I feel that I see my doom within it.' Here he turned back to Gandalf and spoke less earnestly, with greater conviction. The fate of the Northern Kingdom was decided at the passing of Eärendur. The greed of his sons and the short-sightedness of men sealed its doom even ere we came to Middle-Earth. Divided they will fall.'  
  
Here Gandalf knew that Saruman would not be swayed from his own quest; and he too thought he saw the White Wizard's doom in the shadow of the East. Instead he said only, I shall not tarry here long. I must ride to Imladris, as these matters concern the House of Elrond. I suspect we shall not meet again for some time.' And he whistled for his horse, and prepared to depart; but Saruman caught his arm.  
  
Do not hurry yourself to Imladris,' he said. You fear rightly the peril from the North, and if you must seek a means to stay it, then pass once more through the Three Kingdoms and be watchful; hope may arise where you would seek it not.'  
  
Gandalf smiled, nodding in gratitude. Always of value has your council been, old friend,' he said. It is a shame that we now only meet when times are ill.'  
  
Such is the nature of our task,' replied Saruman. When evil has been stricken from these lands, it will be different. Until that time, go with the will of the Valar to guide you.'  
  
Now Gandalf's horse returned to him, and he mounted without delay. Having said his parting words with Saruman, he turned and rode from the Court, down through the seven tiers of the city and again out through the Great Gate; and so ended the last meeting of the two Wizards in the city of the Tower of the Setting Sun.  
  
North and West Gandalf rode, along the White Mountains through the plains of Anórien to Dunland, then across the River Isen past the Misty Mountains into the Enedhwaith, Gondor's sparsely populated frontier. Here his path turned more to the North as he made for the southern borders of Rhudaur and the former lands of Arnor, to pay his small part in the doom of that land.   



	3. For Want of a Horseshoe Nail

CHAPTER II  
  
_For Want of a Horseshoe Nail  
_

  
Tîm-ézan was the name of one rider in the House of Rên-yuri-Sún, a lord of Rhudaur and relation of Hezad-ghân-Hezad who was king of that land. All these men were of the _Drughu_, the Wild Men who had migrated over many centuries from the far southwest of Middle-Earth and had none of the noble blood of the high Edain. They held no right to rule any part of the Northern Kingdom; yet they did, having taken power with the aid of renegades among the Dúnedain, and had now ruled as lords for many long years.  
  
Even among these people, Tîm-ézan held no great stature, save for the most obvious sort. He was tall for a Drughu, and slighter of build as well; and being young he did not yet have a full beard, but some stubble on his chin. Many others of his kind called him _Nel-ghún_, the Elf-boy; though those who did so had never in fact seen an elf and thus knew not how silly a comparison it was. For tall though he might be in their eyes, he still bore a far greater resemblance to the Drughu than to even the lowest of the Elven-folk; and his darker complexion did well to distinguish him from the Edain as well.  
  
Tîm-ézan was he son of Ram-ézan, an ironsmith in the town of Súlbad at the feet of the Weather Hills. Due to his stature Tîm-ézan was made a rider, and served to carry messages between his town and points farther East. He and his line had been of little account through the ages, and to be a courier for a lord of Rhudaur was likely the greatest office any of his line had ever held.  
  
The third month of 1409 found him passing through the Trollshaws on the way from the Last Bridge over the river Hoarwell; he made for Hithlath, a city that was Rhudaur's capital in the far East of that land, and to which he bore a message from the lord of Súlbad. The hour was turning late as the sun passed away behind him, beneath the Western horizon; yet Tîm-ézan had no wish to rest in any wood whose name bore the word Troll' in it. Still, he had been riding for much of the day, and was tired; moreover, his horse did not seem to share his apprehension. Her gait had been growing irregular for some time, and Tîm-ézan was becoming concerned that she was not simply tired.  
  
The last light of day faded from the sky, and Tîm-ézan found himself still surrounded by the beech-trees of the upland woods. His horse's pace was slowing still more, and her gait was now markedly irregular; and his heart began to tell him that he would not reach the bridge yet that day. So while he feared still the consequences of spending night in the Trollshaws, he saw himself with no alternative, and stopped his horse.  
  
Well, Féda,' he said, dismounting. Here we are, stopped in the less hospitable quarter of this land. I hope your grief is worth a night in this place.'  
  
Soon, however, he saw the cause of his horse's grief, and it was more serious than he had thought. One of her shoes had nearly been thrown; nearly, as it was still fastened to the hoof by a single nail. Worse, a small but sharp rock had worked its way into her hoof, in just the sort of manner that the horseshoe was meant to prevent. Tîm-ézan cursed, though not loudly as he feared still the dwellers of the Trollshaws. Now, I admire you,' he said; had that been my foot, I would have protested much louder.'  
  
He managed to remove the rock, and did his best to ease her pain by removing the shoe entirely. Having no spare nails or any great skill in shoeing a horse, he knew not how he could replace the shoe and continue on in the morning, but he knew also that no good would come from leaving it as it was.  
  
Giving Féda what feed he had and removing his pack, he set her loose to rest and prepared to do so himself. As he thought he could not risk a fire, he ate a dinner of bread and vegetables, then made himself ready to sleep. However, he found that he could not find any rest on the ground among the trees, as he thought himself far too exposed for any wanderer who could mean him ill will. Being in an unfamiliar wood and unwilling to travel far, his options here were few, so he looked for shelter among the tall trees about him. The _Drughu_ had for an age dwelt in woods where they might, and knew the trees better than any of their kin among Men; Tîm-ézan climbed among the branches of the largest near him, and hoped to find shelter there.  
  
As he had, despite his lineage, been raised in a town, Tîm-ézan found it a difficult thing at first to find any sleep in a tree. The branches would sway whenever the wind passed through them, and he would at first be concerned that they might not hold his weight. After a time, however, his confidence grew and so did his fatigue; and eventually sleep overtook him though he never felt quite secure.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tîm-ézan did not fear the Trollshaws needlessly; whispers of evil ran through the woods, in no small part from the devices of the Witch-King of the North. Moreover, creatures more ancient than the Witch-King had migrated to these lands from the Misty Mountains to the east; and in dark of night they would walk about; the woods were not named wrongly.  
  
He awoke some hours before first light of dawn, and it was not at first clear why. The night was very still, and so silent that he wondered if this might be unnatural in itself. He attempted to look around, and discovered that rest in the tree had left him quite sore; the slightest motion of arm or leg left him aching, and the awkwardness of his motion caused quite a rustle in the tree. And through all this he could not shake the sense that some danger was passing quite near by.  
  
He did not see the figure at first; and when he did, it seemed nothing more than a nondescript shadow. Yet it moved as no shadow would, and had the shape of a man: tall, thin and standing straight as a pole. It swayed slightly as it walked, but its gait was unnaturally smooth, and its footsteps made not the slightest bit of noise. It seemed less a man than a phantom, alien to this world yet walking across it nonetheless. Tîm-ézan, watching it, felt inexplicably cold.  
  
It did not follow the road, nor did it pass very close to the tree in which Tîm-ézan rested. With no sign that it had been aware of him at all, it melted away into the woods, gliding ever towards the North. Tîm-ézan had no cause to think it had observed him, nor any suspicion as to its nature, yet nonetheless the very sight of it had filled him with a strange form of dread, a sense that its very presence was a portent of ill.  
  
He did not sleep again after seeing this wraith. Though he knew it to be well before dawn, yet he fully expected to spend them all with thoughts of the eerie form that had witnessed. Though he did indeed find no sleep, this prediction proved itself untrue. Perhaps half an hour after his strange sighting, another presented itself as well: a band of creatures scuttling down the road, chattering to themselves in words that he did not understand but a tone could recognize. These were goblins, lesser orcs native to the Misty Mountains farther east. Tîm-ézan had had some few dealings with these creatures during his rides into the eastern country, and knew enough to consider them as unsavory as any creature he knew.  
  
What he thought odd was that they had ventured so far from the mountains as the Trollshaws, and on the road no less. Even if no patrols of Rhudaur dared venture into these woods at night, they should not have let any intruders penetrate so deep into the country to begin with. Wondering at the oddities of the night so far, he observed the goblins as they made their way across his field of vision, so consumed with whatever dispute they were having that they barely noticed the road they were following, much less his presence.  
  
So it seemed they would pass as well; but unfortunately, his horse did not fare so well in escaping attention. Being well-trained, Féda had not run at the sight of the wraith earlier, and stood at rest by a nearby tree; perhaps due to the state of her hoof, she was slow to act as the goblins approached as well, and they surrounded her with great clamor upon the sighting.  
  
What now?' asked one. Some beast runs loose but does not run?'  
  
A horse I see! said another. A horse of the tall-men, tame as a thrall!'  
  
Does it make good eating?' wondered a third, reaching out to poke her flank with its short, crooked blade. It could be fatter, but there is meat on the bones, and I like it fresh.'  
  
Tîm-ézan had been reluctant to engage an entire band of goblins, especially as he had left his pack of darts on the ground. However, when talk began of eating his horse, it became clear that he would not be able to sit by any longer. As stealthily as he was able, he began to bring himself down from among the branches of the tree, counting surprise as his best weapon before the short sword he bore.  
  
Féda also did not like the concept of being the dinner of goblin marauders; as the one sought to stick her with his blade, she reared up suddenly and drove her hoof into his head, shattering the creature's skull and sending it to the ground with a mangled cry. The other goblins recoiled as a pack, and the level of their chatter increased threefold.  
  
Tame as a thrall?' mocked one of them. I want food that won't fight back!'  
  
Then eat from the leaves!' snapped another. Or take from Gragga's flank, for he won't object! Tîm-ézan could only guess that Gragga was the goblin that had already fallen to Féda's hoof.  
  
As the goblins continued to argue, and some did indeed seem to be inspecting the corpse of their fallen companion, Tîm-ézan sensed a new threat coming, and ceased his descent. It was a skill of the _Drughu_ that they might make themselves so still as to resemble a figure of stone, and while this was normally an act of deep meditation the knowledge could also aid them in not being seen. Whether this was the factor that saved his life as events unfolded was unclear, but he was certainly glad when the next arrival passed him by without any apparent heed.  
  
Great was this creature, towering over Tîm-ézan's head even as he remained in the branches of a tree. Its shape was Man-like, yet its arms and legs were broader than tree-trunks, and it possessed little neck, but two heads. Such were the greatest of the Trolls of Hithaeglir, who chanced through the Northern lands west of the mountains even through the Third Age.  
  
The goblins were so consumed with their own quarrel that many did not even notice the massive creature's approach; those who did simply ran without any warning to the others. The dispute was not truly ended until two of the goblins found themselves scooped up by the troll's hands, as it now stood directly behind them. Now the others did indeed scatter, and Féda had the sense to flee as well.  
  
Not goblins again,' moaned one of the troll's heads. I've right near had it with em by now; tastes all funny going down.'  
  
Well, you could ave had yourself that horse,' said the other. Why'd you pick em up, if you was just to complain more about it?'  
  
But I like horses,' said the first. Nice to watch em run, and all. Don't gets to see em running very often, you know.'  
  
Well, I think it's nice to eat, myself,' said the second. And if goblins are what I gots to eat, then I'm gonna eat me some goblins. Let's take em back and make a nice stew of em.'  
  
Did you say you likes to eat yourself?' asked the first.  
  
Quiet, you! You knows what I meant. Now come on and let's go. Here, get that one lying on the ground there and we'll be off afore the sun comes.'  
  
Now how am I supposed to do that?' asked the first. Does it look like I've got a spare hand to you?'  
  
The goblins, meanwhile, had been flailing quite madly in search of escape, yet as both had lost their weapons and were held high off the ground, had met with little success. One now had removed his helm, a battered piece of metal that might have been made with the intent of being a drinking goblet, and pounded on the troll's hand with it. The surprised troll relaxed its grip just enough for the goblin to fall to the ground and flee.  
  
Now see what you've done?' demanded the second head, as the troll lumbered off in pursuit. Now we won't ave enough to eat, all a-cause you can't be troubled for goblin meat!' Now hold on, we aven't got the dead one!'  
  
Such bickering continued until they had passed out of sight and earshot. Tîm-ézan watched the whole affair from the tree in which he hid, not moving or speaking until he could be certain all the passers-by were gone. It took him about this long to make sense of what had happened in any event, and to convince himself that he had not indeed imagined it all.  
  
I never doubted that evil things might walk in these woods,' he mused; but I had not thought the evil would be quite so stupid.'


End file.
